to barclay on his 9th birthday

to my first born love,

Today has been nine years since they placed you in my arms, screaming and alert.  You were born, I was born.  I kind of feel like I have grown along side you, in my own way.  

Let me first say that I am in awe of you.  You are the most complex human being I have ever met.  I am forever curious about what you are experiencing, feeling, thinking, creating.  You surely are a beautiful creation by God.  You tend to swing to extremes ( I have no idea where you got that from-cough cough).  

You are soft and kind and intense and then you are intense and hard.

You are mature far beyond your years and then you are pure and childlike.

You want to go, you want to stop.

You laugh, you cry.

You love hard, you withhold.

You create, you create, you create.

You imagination is incredible.  I'm so thankful at 9 you still love pretending and inventing games and stories to act out.  You are really into Narnia right now-particularly King Peter.  I'm holding my breath in this next year.  Can this pure imaginative state continue at this age?  Please say it is so.

You want to be an adult.  In fact I think you are more adult than me.  I might have to admit that might be a bit true.  You started drinking coffee in Costa Rica and just love having a cup every now and then.  You are begging me to take a thermos of it to school.  You also have started going to work with your daddy.  It coincides with times when I cannot hold your intensity a moment more.  You love it.  You eat it up.  You have a desk with a phone and some affirmations above it.  You will call me so many times (and this is usually after a fight between us) just to chat casually.  A softening for us both.  You also have your own business cards Noah printed for you.  Barclay George.  Assistant.  I was frozen with my mouth gaping open when you casually handed your card to a waitress and said "If you ever have any buying or selling real estate needs, here's my card."

To be honest it's really hard to show you my love.  Snuggles and back rubs don't work.  Words don't ever seem to sink in.  GIfts fade in moments.  But letting you do big things makes you crack wide open.  Things like running in and paying for takeout (but you tip too much.  ha!), packing lunches for me, cleaning Sullivan's room, starting the car in the morning.  

This year was the year of the "fancy clothes".  You went months wanting to wear pants, collared shirts, a blazer, a tie and a fedora.  And sometimes you wear reading glasses with the glass punched out.  I have been awe struck by how much you don't care what others think about that.

In one way you don't care at all what others think, and on the other hand you are desperate and anxious inside to connect with others.  This is masked with some very immature and hurtful outside actions.

You aren't thriving in school.  It breaks my heart.  You're at a desk by yourself agains a wall because you can't keep your hands to yourself.  Every time she moves you back she can't teach.  You are "that kid" in your class.  You are always in trouble (despite a lot of collaboration between your teacher and me).  You're not mean though, and that I'm thankful for.  To be honest, we are looking to medicate you this year because it's painful to watch you suffer and we have done our darndest to avoid it with diet and therapies and CBD oil and brain remapping.  I just don't you suffering anymore.

This year you started mandolin lessons!  You love it and are good at it.  You also started playing tennis 2 times a week and are also amazing at that.  You're working with an occupational therapist that is brilliant and who gets you.  Like sees the brilliant you.

I have been very moved this week to wipe the slate clean with you.  Years of trying to "fix you" has built up layers of a wall between us.  I just love you and I don't want you to have a hard life.  But more than that, I want you to know that I love you, fully and completely-just as you were created.  I don't want you to think that I am constantly chiseling you to be what I want you to be.  I'm brought to my knees almost daily by my lack of control over you, and I am left with my only option of laying with my hands held open.  

I can see it, Barclay, I can see you years from now.  Your brilliance exposed to everyone.  I can see you happy and thriving and changing the world.  

You are my world changer and I am honored to be your mother.  I am honored to watch you unfurl into who are were created to be.  

love your mama